That evening the forest of organ pipes did not play
That evening the forest of organ pipes did not play.
A native cradle sang Schubert for us,
The mill was grinding, the music's blue-eyed drunkenness
Laughed in the songs of the hurricane.
The brown-green world of the old song,
But only eternally young where the Erl-king
Shakes the rumbling crowns of nightingaled
Linden trees in savage rage.
The awesome force of night's return,
That wild song, like black wine:
It is a double, a hollow ghost
Peering senselessly through the cold window!
poem by Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Poet's Song
I HID in the world and sang,
And I sang so loud and long
That all the ages rang
With the music of my song.
I sang of the earth and sky,
5
I sang of the whispering seas,
I sang of the mountains high,
And I sang of the flowers and trees;
I sang of the early spring,
I sang of the dawning day,
10
I sang, for I had to sing
As the young lambs have to play;
Till heaven and earth were ringing,
And all the people heard,
And they said, "We love his singing,
15
For his song is the song of the bird."
poem by Frederick George Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song of Enchantment
A song of Enchantment I sang me there,
In a green-green wood, by waters fair,
Just as the words came up to me
I sang it under the wild wood tree.
Widdershins turned I, singing it low,
Watching the wild birds come and go;
No cloud in the deep dark blue to be seen
Under the thick-thatched branches green.
Twilight came: silence came:
The planet of Evening's silver flame;
By darkening paths I wandered through
Thickets trembling with drops of dew.
But the music is lost and the words are gone
Of the song I sang as I sat alone,
Ages and ages have fallen on me -
On the wood and the pool and the elder tree.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song Of The Seasons
Sing a song of Spring-time,
The world is going round,
Blown by the south wind:
Listen to its sound.
'Gurgle' goes the mill-wheel,
'Cluck' clucks the hen;
And it's O for a pretty girl
To kiss in the glen.
Sing a song of Summer,
The world is nearly still,
The mill-pond has gone to sleep,
And so has the mill.
Shall we go a-sailing,
Or shall we take a ride,
Or dream the afternoon away
Here, side by side?
Sing a song of Autumn,
The world is going back;
They glean in the corn-field,
And stamp on the stack.
Our boy, Charlie,
Tall, strong, and light:
He shoots all the day
And dances all the night.
Sing a song of Winter,
The world stops dead;
Under snowy coverlid
Flowers lie abed.
There's hunting for the young ones
And wine for the old,
And a sexton in the churchyard
Digging in the cold.
poem by William Cosmo Monkhouse
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Impromptu - II
AT THE WALCKER DINNER UPON THE
COMPLETION OF THE GREAT ORGAN
FOR BOSTON MUSIC HALL IN 1863
I ASKED three little maidens who heard the organ play,
Where all the music came from that stole our hearts away:
'I know,' - said fair-haired Edith,-'it was the autumn breeze
That whistled through the hollows of all those silver trees.'
'No, child!' ' said keen-eyed Clara, it is a lion's cage,
They woke him out of slumber, I heard him roar and rage.'
'Nay,' answered soft-voiced Anna, ''t was thunder that you heard,
And after that caine sunshine and singing of a bird.'
' Hush, hush, you little children, for all of you are wrong,'
I said, 'my pretty darlings, it was no earthly song; A band of blessed angels has left the heavenly choirs,
And what you heard last evening were seraph lips and lyres!'
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Letter To Hermione
People stared at the makeup on his face
Laughed at his long black hair, his animal grace
The boy in the bright blue jeans
Jumped onto the stage
And lady stardust sang his songs
Of darkness and disgrace
And he was alright the band was altogether
Yes he was alright the song went on forever
And he was awful nice
Really quite out of sight
And he sang all night long
Femme fatales emerged from the shadows
To watch this creature fair
Boys stood upon their chairs
To make their point of view
I smiled sadly for a love I could not obey
And lady stardust sang his songs
Of darness and dismay
And he was alright the band was altogether
Yes he was alright the song went on forever
And he was awful nice
Really quite paradise
And he sang all night long
Oh how I sighed when they asked if I knew his name
And he was alright the band was altogether
Yes he was alright the song went on forever
And he was awful nice
Really quite paradise
And he sang all night long
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Convivial Book - Ye've Often, For Our Drunkenness,
Blamed us in ev'ry way,
And, in abuse of drunkenness,
Enough can never say.
Men, overcome by drunkenness,
Are wont to lie till day;
And yet I find my drunkenness
All night-time make me stray;
For, oh! 'tis Love's sweet drunkenness
That maketh me its prey,
Which night and day, and day and night,
My heart must needs obey,--
A heart that, in its drunkenness,
Pours forth full many a lay,
So that no trifling drunkenness
Can dare assert its sway.
Love, song, and wine's sweet drunkenness,
By night-time and by day,--
How god-like is the drunkenness
That maketh me its prey!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Play On The Music
Play on the music
Drop by drop
The strings divine
The nature at its eloquence
From heavens to earth
Stretch the string
Play on the music
Drop by drop
Beethoven’s symphony
Chopin’s piano
Santana’s guitar
Or the cuckoos song
Play on the music
Drop by drop
In the heat of the night
In cold surroundings
The story of my love
My illusions great
I construct heavens
Play on the music
Drop by drop
For the moments rare
It’s only for those
The discerning here
The enchanted being
Play on the music
Drop by drop
Don’t leave me alone
O soul you fly
The body shivers
With the thought
Of death and destruction
O soul we were friends
Thou fly to eternity
Play on the music
Drop by drop
Your place is heaven
I want to be heard
A slave to a master
So ungrateful
Your beauty in this world
I hath been
You decorated me
With ornaments rare
Play on the music
Drop by drop
For this is your fate
O carrier of soul
The life’s going by
Take your share
O body of the soul
Freedom anew
In the world here
Play on the music
Drop by drop
For I am the real
The being and the nothing
The beloved and the rival
The saki and the wine
Play on the music
Drop by drop
In the deep longing
Of the night long
The strings so stretched
From the heavens to earth
Sing songs of love, O beloved mine
Reveal thy face, in my imaginations wild
Torn is my being, between real and unreal
Play on the music
Drop by drop
In the middle of the night
The rain drops falling
From the clouds high
Is telling me this story
Khayyam’s disciple
Sings a song
Play on the music
Drop by drop
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Music Man
Sing your song sweet music man
Cuz I won't be there to hold your hand
Like I used to
I'm through with you
You're a hell of a singer and a powerful man
But you surround yourself with people who demand so little of you
You touched my -heart- (its suposed to be soul) with your beautiful song
You even had me singing along right with you
You said I need you
Then you changed the words and added harmony
And you sang the song you had written for to someone new
~Chorus~
Nobody sings a love song quite like you do
Nobody else can make me sing along
Nobody else can make me feel that things are right when I know they're wrong
Nobody sings a love song quite like you
~
Sing your song sweet music man
You travel the world with your six-piece band
That does for you
What you ask them to
You try to stay young but the songs you've sung to so many people
They've all begun to come back on you
Sing your song sad music man
Your making your living doin one night stands
They're through with you
They don't need you
You're still a hell of a singer but a broken man
But you'll keep searching for that one last fan
To sing to
~Chorus~
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Green Eyed Princess
My eyes where green since the day I was born,
not being told this makes me feel torn.
Now I can relate to “Green Eyed Lady” song,
it’s a song I can dance to all night long.
It has different meanings that you can project,
I feel like the flower child of the sixties to be honest.
Kissing a green eyed lady is like kissing the ocean,
I write about mermaids that make magical potions.
Elton John wrote, “You see I've forwgotten if they're green or they're blue”
Green is harder to come by there are less people with green only a few.
So, being a little different with green eyes and not brown,
makes me more of a princess in my fantasy story with the crown.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on October 10,2011
www.puppetpoems.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Her Song
I sang that song on Sunday,
To witch an idle while,
I sang that song on Monday,
As fittest to beguile;
I sang it as the year outwore,
And the new slid in;
I thought not what might shape before
Another would begin.
I sang that song in summer,
All unforeknowingly,
To him as a new-comer
From regions strange to me:
I sang it when in afteryears
The shades stretched out,
And paths were faint; and flocking fears
Brought cup-eyed care and doubt.
Sings he that song on Sundays
In some dim land afar,
On Saturdays, or Mondays,
As when the evening star
Glimpsed in upon his bending face
And my hanging hair,
And time untouched me with a trace
Of soul-smart or despair?
poem by Thomas Hardy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Sing A Sad Song
I sing a sad song for the cold, lonely
Moments no one will admit to aloud.
I sing a sad song for all of the broken
Promises,
Wrought by circumstances beyond
Anyone's control.
I sing a sad song for the faces pressing
Against the window panes in longing.
I sing a sad song for wild anticipation
Of days that never come.
I sing a sad song for the telephone
That never rings enough.
I sing a sad song for dreams woven of
Hopeless illusions.
I sing a sad song for all of those who
Waste time, singing sad songs!
poem by Dorothy Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Green Eyed Prıncess
My eyes where green since the day I was born,
not being told this makes me feel torn.
Now I can relate to “Green Eyed Lady” song,
it’s a song I can dance to all night long.
It has different meanings that you can project,
I feel like the flower child of the sixties to be honest.
Kissing a green eyed lady is like kissing the ocean,
I write about mermaids that make magical potions.
Elton John wrote, “You see I've forwgotten if they're green or they're blue”
Green is harder to come by there are less people with green only a few.
So, being a little different with green eyes and not brown,
Makes me more of a princess in my fantasy story with the crown.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on October 10,2011
www.puppetpoems.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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King Kong Song
Well I was looking at a movie on the tv last night
Then I had a very funny notion, yeah
I really had to write a song about it
Then Im gonna sing it in my rockn roll band
And I bet that people gonna like it, yeah
I know that everybodys gonna shout it
About a dreadful mighty killer
A big black wild gorilla
We do the king kong song, wont you sing along
Listen to the music and it couldnt go wrong
We do the kong kong song, gotta sing along
Cant you hear the beating of the monkey tom-tom
Listen to the rhythm of the king kong song
Now we can make the jungle out of any old place
We can make gorillas out of people, yeah
Well who can tell a monkey from a monkey?
So people get together, gonna have a good time
Everybody listen to the music, yeah
the song were gonna sing is kinda funky
So let your arms hang down
And waddle all around
Like a dreadful mighty killer
A big black wild gorilla
We do the king kong song, wont you sing along
Listen to the music and it couldnt go wrong
We do the kong kong song, gotta sing along
Cant you hear the beating of the monkey tom-tom
Listen to the rhythm of the king kong song
About a dreadful mighty killer
A big black wild gorilla
We do the king kong song, wont you sing along
Listen to the music and it couldnt go wrong
We do the kong kong song, gotta sing along
Cant you hear the beating of the monkey tom-tom
Listen to the rhythm of the king kong song
We do the king kong song, wont you sing along
Listen to the music and it couldnt go wrong
We do the kong kong song, gotta sing along
Cant you hear the beating of the monkey tom-tom
Listen to the rhythm of the king kong song
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bees
From the hollow trees in their native home
them old fellows cut the honeycomb.
On honey and little white grubs they fed,
'cause them young bees was blackfeller's bread.
That's why they was so mighty and strong
in their native home in Currarong.
An' them old fellers' drink was honey-bul;
honey and water, a coolamon full.
Naked through the bush they went,
an' never knew what sickness meant,
them native bees could do you no harm,
they'd crawl all over your honey-smeared arm.
But them Eyetalian bees, they'd bung
your eyes right up. When we was young
we used to rob their honey-trees,
Savage! they'd fetch your blood, Them bees
would zoom an' zing an' chase a feller
from Bombaderry to Bodalla
Well Old Uncle Ninah, and Billy Bulloo
Old Jacky Mumbulla, King Merriman too,
them fierce old fellers, they're all gone now.
An' the wild honey's still in the gumtree bough.
poem by Roland Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Music Man
Sing a song sweet music man
cause I wont be there to hold your hand like I used to
Im through with you
Youre a heck of a singer and powerful man
But you surround yourself with people
Who demand so little of you
You touched my soul with your beautiful song
You even had me singin along right with you
You said I need you
Then you changed the words and added harmony
Then you sang the song you had written for me to someone new
Oh, but nobody sings a love song quite like you do
Oh, and nobody else can make me sing along
Nobody else can make me feel things are right
When I know theyre wrong
Nobody sings a love song quite like you
Sing your song sweet music man
Travel the world with a six piece band
That does for you what you tell em to
And you try to stay young but the songs are sung
To so many people whove all begun came back on you
Sing your song sad music man
Makin your living doing one-night stands
Theyre through with you
They dont need you
Youre still a heck of a singer but a broken man
But youll keep on lookin for one last fan to sing to
Oh, and nobody sings a love song quite like you do
Oh, and nobody else can make me sing along
And nobody else can make me feel things are right
When theyre wrong with a song
Nobody sings a love song quite like you
Tag:
Sing your song sweet music man
I believe in you
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Green Roads
The green roads that end in the forest
Are strewn with white goose feathers this June,
Life marks left behind by someone gone to the forest
To show his track. But he has never come back.
Down each green road a cottage looks at the forest.
Round one the nettle towers; two are bathed in flowers.
An old man along the green road to the forest
Strays from one, from another a child alone.
In the thicket bordering the forest,
All day long a thrush twiddles his song.
It is old, but the trees are young in the forest,
All but one like a castle keep, in the middle deep.
That oak saw the ages pass in the forest:
They were a host, but their memories are lost,
For the tree is dead: all things forget the forest
Excepting perhaps me, when now I see
The old man, the child, the goose feathers at the edge of the forest,
And hear all day long the thrush repeat his song.
poem by Edward Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let It All Be Music
Music is a mirror
Near around my soul
Music is the spirit
Come on let it roll
Music is my nature
People have you heard
Music is my future
Music is the world
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
Music isnt somewhere
Music turns you right
Music is a fever
Leads you day and night
Music is like heaven
Where you wanna be
Music is religion
Music sets you free
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
Music is tomorrow
Music is today
Music is forever
Music is the way
Music is for women
Music is for men
Music is for children
Sing it all again
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
I can feel it, in my soul
I can feel it, in my heart
Sweet sweet sweet music
Music
Sweet sweet sweet music
Sweet music
Play it on
Play it on
My my my my my kind of music
Play it
Play the music
My my my my my kind of music
Play it
I said play it
On and on and on and on
Music
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oliver Basselin. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
In the Valley of the Vire
Still is seen an ancient mill,
With its gables quaint and queer,
And beneath the window-sill,
On the stone,
These words alone:
'Oliver Basselin lived here.'
Far above it, on the steep,
Ruined stands the old Chateau;
Nothing but the donjon-keep
Left for shelter or for show.
Its vacant eyes
Stare at the skies,
Stare at the valley green and deep.
Once a convent, old and brown,
Looked, but ah! it looks no more,
From the neighboring hillside down
On the rushing and the roar
Of the stream
Whose sunny gleam
Cheers the little Norman town.
In that darksome mill of stone,
To the water's dash and din,
Careless, humble, and unknown,
Sang the poet Basselin
Songs that fill
That ancient mill
With a splendor of its own.
Never feeling of unrest
Broke the pleasant dream he dreamed;
Only made to be his nest,
All the lovely valley seemed;
No desire
Of soaring higher
Stirred or fluttered in his breast.
True, his songs were not divine;
Were not songs of that high art,
Which, as winds do in the pine,
Find an answer in each heart;
But the mirth
Of this green earth
Laughed and revelled in his line.
From the alehouse and the inn,
Opening on the narrow street,
Came the loud, convivial din,
Singing and applause of feet,
The laughing lays
That in those days
Sang the poet Basselin.
In the castle, cased in steel,
Knights, who fought at Agincourt,
Watched and waited, spur on heel;
But the poet sang for sport
Songs that rang
Another clang,
Songs that lowlier hearts could feel.
In the convent, clad in gray,
Sat the monks in lonely cells,
Paced the cloisters, knelt to pray,
And the poet heard their bells;
But his rhymes
Found other chimes,
Nearer to the earth than they.
Gone are all the barons bold,
Gone are all the knights and squires,
Gone the abbot stern and cold,
And the brotherhood of friars;
Not a name
Remains to fame,
From those mouldering days of old!
But the poet's memory here
Of the landscape makes a part;
Like the river, swift and clear,
Flows his song through many a heart;
Haunting still
That ancient mill,
In the Valley of the Vire.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After the Lotus Flowers Have Opened
Lotus flower open after west lake good
Carry wine come time
Not use flag pennant
Before behind red curtain green canopy follow
Paint boat punt enter flower deep place
Scent float gold cup
Mist rain small small
One piece pipes song drunk in return
After the lotus flowers have opened- West Lake is good.
Come for a while and bring some wine,
There's no need for flags and pennants,
Before and behind, red curtains and green canopies follow.
The painted boat is punted in to where the flowers are thick.
Fragrance floats round golden cups,
Mist and rain are so, so fine,
In a snatch of pipes and song I drunkenly return.
poem by Ouyang Xiu
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Brown Eyed Girl
Hey where did we go, days when the rains came
down in the hollow
playin' the new game
laughin' and a runnin' hey hey
skippin' an a jumpin'
in the misty morning fog
my hearts a thumpin and you
my brown eyed girl
you my brown eyed girl
So what ever happened
to tuesday at the show
gone down the old man with a
transista radio
standin in the sunlight laughing
hiding hind the rainbow wall
slippin' and a slidin'
all along the waterfall
with you my brown eyed girl
you my brown eyed girl
do you remember when we used to sing
sha la la la la la la la la la la ti dah
sha la la la la la la la la la la ti dah
la ti dah
so hard to find my way
now that all on my own
i saw you just the other day
oh my you have grown
cast from every backround law
sometime over come thikin bout ya
makin' love in the green grass
behind the stadium young with you
my brown eyed girl
you my brown eyed girl
do you remember when we used to sing
sha la la la la la la la la la la ti dah
sha la la la la la la la la la la ti dah
sha la la la la la la la la la la ti dah
sha la la la la la la la la la la ti dah
la ti dah
song performed by by Weezer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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